We All Fall Down
by girlinshipwreck
Summary: The world has ended and Bethany can't afford to look back anymore, only forwards, forcing herself to forget Hal Mason. After a devastating Skitter attack, Bethany and her group seek shelter with the 7th Mass, but trust becomes betrayal as the battle for survival becomes even more bitter, only for her path to cross with Hal's once again... {1x06 onwards, AU}.
1. We Never Are

**Author's Note: **This story crosses over with events of my Tom/Vivien OC story, but is mostly Hal/Bethany OC centric.

* * *

><p><strong>We Never Are<strong>

_There's no peace__  
><em>_Only war__  
><em>_Victory decides who's wrong or right__  
><em>_It will not cease__  
><em>_Only grow..._

Will rolled onto his back, Anna murmuring in protest as his arm slipped from her waist, before sliding uneasily back into sleep. He glanced down at her, jaw tightening at the sight of the shadows flickering over the hollows of her thin face. There was never enough food to go round, and when the baby arrived, it would be another mouth to feed. In the halcyon days before the war and after their reunion, they'd talked about maybe trying for another baby, never really taking it seriously. But then it had happened, and here they were, living hand to mouth, on the run, never knowing if each day would be their last.

He sat up, pushing his long greying black hair out of his eyes, gaze drifting over the rest of his group. All were accounted for, all united in their goal to find sanctuary. After finding the recruitment poster for the 2nd Massachusetts, the group had been trying to locate the resistance movement for the past month, only to no avail. They'd either gone to ground or had disbanded. But still the group pressed on, chasing ghosts, pinning all their hopes on a faded old poster.

Will got to his feet, stomach clenching painfully. He'd given his portion of dinner to his wife, the second night he'd gone without anything to eat. He thought about going out and seeing if he could scare up some squirrel or raccoon, but ammunition was low and couldn't be wasted on the local wildlife. But soon they would have to start choosing between empty stomachs and empty guns, not with the way their supplies were running low.

He crept past Abigail and Ellie, Ellie's head resting on her older sister's shoulder, their fair hair mingling. His oldest daughter was on night sentry duty with Phil, something he intensely disliked her doing. Women had no place in doing a man's work, especially when there were men to do it. The women cooked and watched over the children, as well as doing other menial tasks such as sewing or disposing of general waste. The girls aided them, the boys going out with the men to find food and defend the camp.

This was the way Will thought things should be done, and the others had accepted his decree. But Bethany had classed it as bullshit, wasting no time in proving her point. Back in the beginning, behind her father's back, she'd bullied one of the older men into teaching her how to handle his rifle until she was proficient enough to earn one of her own. She'd started skipping her chores, going on runs with the men instead, her father objecting until she took down a Skitter in front of them all. After that, Bethany bailed on the babysitting and cooking completely. She could hold her own with the men, and she had their respect, even if she didn't have her father's.

* * *

><p>"You should go an' get some shut-eye, girl," Phil said, tugging his trucker cap over his ears. "Get Dixon out here instead. He won't mind, his wife's snorin' keeps him awake anyhows."<p>

"I can't sleep," Bethany muttered, leaning her head against the wall.

"Who can?" Sam said lazily, his gaze travelling down the length of her, the sight of her long legs in their denim shorts making his breath catch in his throat slightly.

Bethany caught the glance and smiled provocatively, making Sam straighten up, the corner of his lips crooking. Then she turned her head away, pretending to pull a loose thread out of the sleeve of her checked shirt. Sam just shook his head to himself, his grin growing wider. They'd been playing this game for weeks now, Bethany taking two steps forwards and five steps back. For all her bad girl act, he knew she wasn't as worldly as she made herself out to be. There were walls around Bethany, walls he wasn't going to climb. She could come to him, he wasn't running after her.

Phil pretended not to see what was going on, turning his back on the two. Sam was always wanting something, and now he wanted Will O'Hara's oldest girl. He'd already had his way with Bob's niece, and now she was three months gone with Sam's kid, a situation that was setting everyone on edge due to Sam's reluctance to do the decent thing and stand by the girl. Now he was here, playing his games with Bethany and hounding the hell out of Phil. The bastard wasn't even on sentry duty either, doing his usual cut and run when it came to contributing to the group.

But even though Phil thought Sam was a piece of shit, he wasn't getting involved. He was fond of Bethany, she was a nice enough kid once you got past the attitude, but he had his own daughters to worry about. Between starving and the Skitters, Phil had enough on his plate to deal with. As long as Sam wasn't sniffing around his girls, he didn't really give a damn; somebody else could sort the little scumbag out.

"Got any smokes?" Bethany asked Sam, glancing at the doorway just in case her dad came through it. He hated her habit, but she needed the nicotine hit to get her through the long days and nights. It soothed her nerves and steadied her shaking hands. Alcohol was a crutch no one could afford to lean on. You needed a clear head in this world, and a drunken stupor could lead to your death. Cigarettes had been one of the things overlooked by the Skitters, and Bethany considered this an advantage over the enemy, lighting up a petty act of rebellion tantamount to sticking two fingers up at the falling skies.

"Might be some down in reception," Sam said, pushing the hair out of his eyes. "Y'know, an illegal cache," he added, waggling his eyebrows like a pantomime villain.

Bethany laughed, tossing her head back, Sam studying the curve of her swanlike neck with secret appreciation. She wasn't pretty, but she had something that set her apart, a spark, something in those green eyes of hers daring him to more dangerous heights. The fact she was the daughter of their leader only made Sam even more determined to conquer her. Will O'Hara had always got on Sam's last nerve, Will's way of acting the hero and treating his beautiful wife as though she was made of bone china, his daughters even more so, irritating the hell out of him. Corrupting Bethany would be his way of giving Will his comeuppance.

"Wanna get some?" Bethany said, getting to her feet, not even giving him a chance to answer, already knowing it.

"Sure, sugar," Sam drawled, getting up.

"Don't call me sugar," Bethany snapped, startling him.

"Sorry," Sam said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.

Bethany just nodded, before turning on her heel and stalking off, slinging her rifle over her shoulder.

* * *

><p>The click of Bethany's cowboy boots echoed through the darkness, the light of her torch flickering in fits and starts in the darkness. As she made her way over to the reception desk, it went out completely, plunging them into pitch blackness. Cursing, she slammed its side with her hand, before switching it on and off a few times, but the battery was dead, and there was none left to replace it. Completely losing her head, she turned and booted the desk, only for Sam to grab her elbow, making her whirl around, light suddenly striking her eyes.<p>

"Hey," he whispered, his face inches from hers, "it's alright, I've got it covered."

Bethany swallowed hard, her heart speeding up in her chest. She knew Sam was a shit, but she still liked him. She liked him a lot, his swagger, the way his eyes narrowed. He was a man, not a stupid boy. She might have been seventeen, but sometimes she felt like seventy. But when she was with him, it was like she was finally finding her feet. Even if he wasn't Hal -

"What the hell's going on here?" Will bellowed, making Bethany start violently.

"Nothin's goin' on, Hawk-eye," Sam said coolly as Will strode over to them, his face like thunder.

Will's jaw tightened at Sam's use of his nick-name. He bore more than a passing resemblance to Daniel Day-Lewis, and everyone had started calling him Hawk-Eye, the nick-name becoming an in-joke in the group, a way to lighten the tension. But Sam had never taken part in the joke, merely sneering instead. Yet here he was, addressing Will as though he was his ally after all. Will just shook his head in derision, his green gaze burning into Sam, forcing the younger man to look away.

"Thought you were keeping watch?" Will asked Bethany, his voice dangerous.

"Phil's covering me," Bethany said sullenly, tossing her black braid back.

"And who will cover Phil if he falls asleep?" Will snapped. "You? I don't think so."

"There's nothin' out there, man," Sam said, feigning a yawn. "The Skitters have already swept through the area."

"It doesn't mean we're safe," Will said from between gritted teeth. "We never are" -

_- "SKITTERS!"_


	2. The Outsider

**The Outsider**

_Before _

Bethany stood on the steps of Bay High, watching as Hal Mason said good-bye to his father and little brother, his other brother striding past her, oblivious to her sister's searching glance, a depressingly thick book tucked under his arm. Bethany and her family had moved to Somerville a month back, she and her sister transferring from their private school to Bay High instead, both still finding it hard to adjust to the change.

"I think I love Ben Mason," Abigail whispered, watching him disappear through the double doors.

"I think you don't," Bethany said, rolling her eyes. Ben and Abigail shared roll-call, but he was immune to the long looks Abigail was so good at giving, preferring to bury his head in the pages of a book instead. Ben was a math geek, a know it all, and Abigail with her long blonde hair and beautiful face, their mother in miniature, was a future prom queen in the making. Thanks to the cruel logic of high school, they would never be, not unless they were in some clichéd teen flick.

But it was through Abigail's obsession with Ben Mason, that Bethany had developed one of her own with the Mason family. She knew it was weird the way she watched them, but they just looked... happy. They looked happy together, happy at being with each other. And happiness wasn't something that existed in her own home, not with the way her parents were fighting every night. The move to Somerville was meant to be a fresh start, but it had just made things worse.

Hal's father scooped his small son up into his arms, Bethany watching him raise his hand in farewell to Hal as he headed towards the high school steps. Bethany liked Tom Mason despite having never spoken to him. He looked kind, the type of person one instantly trusted on sight. Despite Tom being plain and awkward, several girls in her English class had a crush on him, and that wasn't counting their teacher, but her own regard for him wasn't so complicated. Something about him reminded her of her own father, and this was what drew her to him.

Against her will, it was Hal who was increasingly catching her eye, even if he acted like she didn't exist. He didn't mean anything by it; it was just the way things were. Everybody had a clique and stuck to it accordingly, and things were no different with Hal. He had his own coterie and he had Rita. Bethany had no-one, and consequently stuck to her own company.

Hal had a smile for everyone, Bethany included, but that was as far it went. He was friendly without actually being your friend. He'd walked past her several times on the sidewalk without looking at her twice, despite sitting across the aisle from her in English class every day. It was like she was a ghost, something he simply refused to acknowledge beyond a glance. And as he walked past her on the steps, now was no different.

_I look myself in the face__  
><em>_And whisper "I'm in the wrong place"__  
><em>_Is there more to lose than gain__  
><em>_If I go on my own again?_

_All I know is I cannot pretend__  
><em>_So I'm sitting on the outside again..._

* * *

><p>"I like your bracelet," a voice said, making Bethany's head snap up, only to see Rita. She stood in front of Bethany's table, her tip tilted nose tilted even further as she studied Bethany's wrist with apparent admiration.<p>

"It was my grandmother's," Bethany said slowly, tensing up.

"That's nice," Rita smiled.

Bethany forced herself to smile back, feeling uneasy. Rita was part of the popular crowd, queen to Hal's king. Bethany had been popular back at her old school, but things had been different there. She'd had status there, her differences celebrated instead of being sneered at. But the atmosphere had been bohemian and laidback, with more emphasis on students' emotional wellbeing than their grades. But at Bay High it was straitlaced and formal, and nobody really cared whether Bethany was happy or not as long as she wasn't slitting her wrists.

"I really like your style," Rita said, gesturing to Bethany's dark denim cut-offs and hot pink pleasant blouse. "It's like Woodstock meets Bel Air."

"Thanks," Bethany said, touching her black fish-tail braid with self conscious fingers.

"I heard your mother was on the cover of Vogue," Rita said, dropping her voice conspiratorially, her words making Bethany's heart sink. Here was the real reason behind Rita's friendliness, the same one that had been behind everyone's brief interest in Bethany when she first came to Bay High. But when they'd discovered her mother's modelling days were over, that she was nothing more than a housewife now, their interest had faded with their friendliness. Why it had taken Rita so long to bring the subject up, Bethany didn't know or really care.

"Yeah, she was a model," Bethany said curtly, making Rita's smile become more rigid. "But not anymore."

"It's just I was wanting to break into modelling," Rita said in a rush, "and I thought your mother might be able to help, you know, share a few tips" -

- "Sorry, she can't," Bethany said abruptly. "She's too busy bringing up me and my sisters for much else."

Rita just nodded, her eyes cold above her smile. Then she turned and sashayed down the aisle, Bethany watching her go with narrowed eyes.

* * *

><p>"Oh my God, don't look but Ben's over there," Abigail whispered, clutching Bethany's arm, her fingers biting into flesh.<p>

Bethany rolled her eyes, putting down the latest Harry Potter she'd been flicking through. She should have known there was an ulterior motive to Abigail's sudden urge to hit the mall after school. She and her sister had never been close, but moving to Somerville had forced them to start spending more time together, both finding it hard to adjust to their status as social pariah.

What Bethany didn't realise was that if she was friendlier and persevered in breaking through people's barriers instead of building her own, she would have made friends in time. But her introspective attitude just made Bethany her own worst enemy, the chip on her shoulder merely making the situation even worse. Yet Bethany continued her crusade against the world regardless.

Abigail's problem was that she was too beautiful for her own good, and she relied on her looks as if they were currency, using them to trade her way through life. But at Bay High, this wasn't possible. Her beauty set her apart, and Abigail was at a loss over what to do about it. So she clung to her sister instead, insanely channelling all her energy into making Ben Mason like her, even as he ignored her.

"You do realise stalking is against the law?" Bethany pointed out, pretending to browse through a pile of Dan Browns.

"But he's so _hot!_" Abigail exclaimed, clutching Bethany's arm again. "I can't live without him!"

"Jeesh, you're only fifteen years old," Bethany snapped, pulling her arm free, "your life's just starting, Ben or no Ben."

"But it doesn't mean_ anything _if Ben's not a part of it," Abigail whined.

"Go and play with your Barbie dolls or something," Bethany said irritably, "and leave the poor boy alone."

Abigail just tossed her head back before stomping off towards the Nicholas Sparks section. Bethany watched her go before picking up the Harry Potter again. She'd already read it, but having it in her hands always brought back the same thrill she'd had when first holding it. Hoping Abigail wouldn't do anything crazy, she headed for the bookshelves, bypassing Ben browsing through the manga section, his eyes vague behind his spectacles. She didn't think Ben had discovered girls yet, that he'd probably discover the meaning of life and win the Nobel Peace Prize before anything else.

As she tucked the Harry Potter under her arm, not exactly sure what she was doing with it beyond clinging to it, she ran her fingers over the rows of books, mind drifting. Then a flash of dark grey great-coat caught her eye, making her glance up, only to see Tom Mason doing some stalking of his own. Mind suddenly clear, she angled herself behind a bookcase, watching as he watched somebody through the gap between the books and shelf. But the longer she watched, the more she realised he wasn't really perving, but more trying to make sense of something.

Frowning, she edged out of her hiding place, just as Tom straightened up, following him as he slipped out from between the bookshelves, heading towards a stack of children's classics instead. The young woman he'd been watching stood with her back half turned to him, her long jet hair falling across her face, obscuring it from sight. Tom gave up all pretence of browsing and just flat out stared at her, his brow furrowing, his dark eyes fearful. Bethany watched in fascination as the woman glanced at Tom, her gaze passing over him and settling on something in the distance instead. Then she was gone, Tom suddenly starting after her, only to collide with the display of books, knocking them all over the floor.

Bethany rushed forwards to help, several shop assistants materializing out of thin air at the same time, and between a flustered Tom and them all, they managed to restore the display to its former glory. As the shop assistants departed, Tom turned to Bethany, his forehead perspiring slightly, his large hands shaking. They just stared at each other, and then Bethany forced herself to smile, her tone jocular and jovial.

"You alright?" she asked, elbowing him in the side. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Tom just stared at her again before shaking his head, catching himself. "Sorry, do I know you?" he asked, brow furrowing even further.

"Like father like son," Bethany said before she could stop herself.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm in Hal's English class, but he doesn't know me either," Bethany said with a strained laugh.

"Oh, you're one of them, aren't you?" Tom said distractedly, running his hand across his face. "One of his admirers, I mean."

"I am a fully paid up member of Hal's Harem," Bethany said in her jocular voice again, "guilty as charged."

Tom just looked at her incredulously.

"Seriously, are you alright?" Bethany then asked quietly, worried at the haunted expression in his eyes.

Tom stared at the spot where the woman had been standing, before shaking his head again. "I'm... I'm fine," he said, sounding dazed, "just fine."

Bethany just nodded slowly before side-stepping her escape, shoving the Harry Potter back onto an obliging shelf as she went.


	3. Out Of The Darkness

**Out Of The Darkness **

_See our world is slowly dying_  
><em>I'm not wasting no more time<em>  
><em>Don't think I could believe you...<em>

_Yeah when there'll just be silence_  
><em>And when life will be over<em>  
><em>Don't think you will forgive you...<em>

Bethany clamped her hand over Ellie's mouth as the Skitter stared unseeingly through the grubby window, Bethany praying the darkness would be enough to hide them. The Skitters had attacked the hotel a week ago, and had been pursuing them ever since. They'd lost Sarah and Dean Marshall during the battle, their three kids being taken by the Skitters, everyone else barely escaping with their lives. The night before last, Elsa and her sister had been taken, the memory of their screams making the tears spring to Bethany's eyes. And now here they were, hiding in a church basement, hardly daring to breathe.

Will stood at a half-crouch, his rifle raised, the sweat dripping down his spine. The other men stood in similar attitudes, the women clutching their children to their sides. Anna grabbed Abigail's hand, her other supporting her bump. Her gaze crashed into Bethany's, grey on green, trying to convey courage to her daughter. Bethany had always been brave, but she had lost it during this last week, becoming a shadow of herself.

After the attack, Will had stripped Bethany of her rifle, stating she was no longer allowed to keep watch or go on runs. She had failed the group, bringing the Skitters down on them by not doing her duty. And Bethany had accepted his punishment, welcoming it even. She'd become arrogant in her ability, acting as if she could do whatever she wanted. But in defying her father and her family, she'd almost led them to their deaths, and she still could.

She stared up at the window, willing the Skitter with all her might to leave, to fade back into the darkness so they could breathe again. If it left, it would be a sign they would survive this, that they still had a chance of making it. Unbidden, she suddenly remembered the last time she'd seen Hal. It had been when the school was being evacuated, the pair of them divided by the throng of hysterical students and panicking teachers, Hal fighting to reach her through the crowd, his mother dragging him and his brother outside instead. She had never seen him again, her father taking them out of town that day, figuring it would be safer in the countryside than the suburbs.

The Skitter disappeared from sight, Bethany's shoulders slumping with relief, Ellie whimpering, the sound muffled by Bethany's hand still clamped over her mouth. Bethany's gaze met her mother's again, before locking with Abigail's, her sister's stare accusing and bitter. Bethany looked away, biting her lip. She knew Abigail blamed her for Elsa being taken. Elsa had been Abigail's best friend, the loss only serving to widen the chasm between the sisters.

"Stay here," Will whispered, looking round them all, "I'll go and check it's all clear."

But as he left, Bethany knew they would never be in the clear again, always on the run, always trying to stay one step ahead of the Skitters.

* * *

><p><em>Yeah, you never said a word<em>  
><em>You didn't send me no letter<em>  
><em>Don't think I could forgive you...<em>

_Yeah, our hands will get more wrinkled_  
><em>And our hair will be grey<em>  
><em>Don't think I could forgive you...<em>

Hal pretended to flick through a photo album, his gaze barely registering the blur of faces inside its pages. Nearby, the others were engaged in a game of Monopoly, Vivien sitting on Tom's lap as though it was a throne, Matt perched on the edge of the desk, Ben leaning against the window sill, conducting his finances from afar. They'd invited Hal to join the game, but he'd turned them down flat, not in the mood to play happy families. Vivien wasn't his mother, and pretending otherwise was an insult to his real one, as well as being completely absurd, Vivien only being three or so years older than him.

Hal abruptly got up from his seat, unable to bear it any longer. The way his dad had lost his head over Vivien made Hal's stomach turn. From the word go, his father had made a fool of himself over her, and things were no different now it was finally out in the open how he felt about her. But it didn't give Tom the right to try and force his sons into accepting her, even though it was Hal that had the problem with her, not Ben or Matt.

But as he made to put the photo-album back on the bookshelf, something slipped from its pages, landing on the floor at his feet. Frowning, he knelt down and picked the picture up, his heart slowing in his chest. The photo was of Bethany making rabbit ears with her fingers behind Ben's head, Ben looking less than impressed, Tom's foot just visible in the far corner. Hal slipped the photo back inside the album, his heart feeling like it had stopped completely.

"Hal, I need your help!" Tom boomed, startling him. "Ben's making me bankrupt!"

"Sorry, I'm heading out," Hal said, trying and failing to force a smile onto his face.

"Come on, Hal!" Matt whined. "Don't be such a spoil-sport!"

Hal watched his father whisper something in Vivien's ear, Vivien collapsing in a heap of uncharacteristic giggles, before burying her face in Tom's neck, his hand sliding up her thigh, Vivien slapping it away, giggling again. Hal nearly threw up there and then.

"Sorry small fry," Hal hastily said, "gotta go."

* * *

><p><em>And see the children are starving<em>  
><em>And their houses were destroyed<em>  
><em>Don't think they could forgive you<em>

_Hey, when seas will cover lands_  
><em>And when men will be no more<em>  
><em>Don't think you can forgive you...<em>

Bethany pressed her hand to her mother's forehead, her gaze unwillingly meeting Abigail's.

"How is she?" Abigail whispered. "Has her fever gone down?"

Bethany shook her head before getting to her feet. "I'll fetch some more water," she said, seizing the chance for some solitude, "it'll cool her down at least." Abigail just nodded, before resuming her watch over Anna, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Bethany headed into the kitchen, lowering her gaze to the ground as she passed her father and the other men, their conversation coming to a halt at the sight of her. She knew they were arguing again over what their next move should be, her father still obsessed with finding the 2nd Mass, the others now wanting to head for the mountains.

The Skitters had been on their trail for three weeks now, picking them off one by one, killing and kidnapping. And what was left of their group was splitting into separate factions, weakening them even further. The night before, Phil had packed up his bags, taking his family and leaving. It had been Bethany who'd found his body by the side of the road, his head ripped from his shoulders, his daughters gone. Taking the Skitters' calling card at face value, the group had changed neighbourhoods, holing up in a house with parts of its roof missing, the rain making most of the rooms inhabitable, forcing them all to set up a cramped camp in the living room.

The dampness was affecting Bethany's mother, a common cold rapidly becoming something else, the strain of a difficult pregnancy weakening her even further. They needed a doctor but all they had was Bob, a horse vet, and he'd held his hands up hopelessly, saying he only dealt with horse flesh, not human. Bethany had almost punched him in the face for that, for refusing to help, but Abigail had grabbed her arm, restraining her. Caring for their mother had drawn the sisters back together, forcing Abigail to shelf her grief over Elsa.

Bethany crossed the soaking grass, wrapping her arms around herself as she headed for the pump. Winter was coming, setting their teeth on edge. Despite donning a pair of ripped tights under her denim shorts, and a faded corduroy jacket, the cold still found new ways to torture Bethany. She could seriously kill for a pair of gloves, having lost her own, but the mismatched pair her father had found had gone to her mother, a sacrifice Bethany willingly made. Biting her lip, she set the bucket under the pump, before beginning the arduous task of drawing the water. Once she was done, she bent down and picked up the bucket with both hands, struggling slightly to lift it.

"Nice view," somebody wolf-whistled, making her hastily straighten up.

"Fuck off, Sam," she snapped. After the hotel, she hadn't spoken two words to him, the swelling belly of Bob's niece only serving to further remind her she'd had a lucky escape from him

"Hey, I'm just tryin' to be friendly," he said, tugging on her black braid, making her jerk her head away.

"Your idea of being friendly is knocking up whoever gives you a second glance," Bethany spat, snatching up the bucket again.

"Me an' Sarah were never serious," Sam protested, following her. "I only have feelin's for you, Bethy."

"More like you just want to have a feel," Bethany retorted, stalking back into the kitchen, only to freeze at the sight of a stranger in military fatigues, her father and the other men gathered around him, faces almost reverent, Jessup and Craig looking sickeningly smug, Bethany vaguely recalling they were meant to be out on a food run.

"Hello," the stranger said slowly, his sweeping glance taking her in from black braid to cowboy boot toe.

"Who the hell are you?" Bethany snapped, setting the bucket down on the draining board.

"I'm Lieutenant Terry Clayton," the man said, "Commander of the 7th Mass at your service."


	4. Hidden Treasures

**Hidden Treasures**

_Before_

As Bethany and Abigail made their way home, both thinking of the Masons still back at the mall, a car drew up beside them.

"Hop in ladies," a voice said, making Bethany's head snap up, a vicious retort on the tip of her tongue, only to see with some relief it was just their father.

"Hey," she said tiredly, pulling the door open as Abigail slid into the back seat of their battered station-wagon.

"Hey yourself," Will O'Hara said, pushing his long hair out of his eyes. "Looking tired, girl."

"It's been a long day," she sighed, putting on her seatbelt, "especially with Abby's Ben-watching."

"What, as opposed to bird-watching?" Will parried, swinging the car round.

"I love him, Dad," Abigail said dreamily, "I'm doomed."

"More like Ben's doomed," Bethany muttered.

"Play nice," Will warned.

"Or what?" Bethany retorted. "You'll ground me?"

"I'll make you take a Ben-watching holiday," Will said, "and then you'll realise the true meaning of being doomed."

Bethany just rolled her eyes.

* * *

><p>Bethany suppressed a yawn, before reaching for the remote control, only to freeze as Abigail halted her with her heavily manicured hand.<p>

"Don't even think about it, Beth," Abigail warned, sounding uncannily like their father for a moment.

Bethany lowered her hand, Ellie who was leaning against her, stirring sleepily, thumb tucked into her mouth. Ellie was Abigail's miniature, and Abigail was their mother's, reminding Bethany of the Russian dolls her grandmother had liked to collect.

"It's a re-run," Bethany pointed out, exasperated.

"So?"

"So it means you've seen it before."

"It's my favourite episode."

"You hate _The Simpsons._"

Abigail just raised her plucked eyebrows. Then all three girls started violently as the sound of their mother's usually gentle voice screeched down the stairs, followed by the sound of heavy running feet, then the kitchen door slamming. Bethany and Abigail looked at each other, both getting to their own feet at the same time. As they made for the hall, it was just in time to see their mother throw herself at the kitchen door, hammering it with her fists.

"You _bastard!_" her mother screamed, tears rolling down her face. "You said you'd stopped seeing her!"

"I love her, Anna!"

"Be a man and say that to my face, inside of hiding in there like some spineless coward!"

The kitchen door opened, revealing their father, his own face bloodless.

"I love her," he said, oblivious to his audience out in the hall. "I thought moving here would cure me of her, but it hasn't."

"Oh drop the dramatics," Anna snapped, "we're not in one of your shitty pot-boilers" -

- "My shitty pot-boilers pay the bills" -

- "Just barely" -

- "I provide for you and the girls" -

- "Provide what?" Anna retorted. "We now live in a low-rent neighbourhood, with a wife-beater on one side and a drug-dealer on the other, and a car in the driveway that breaks down every two minutes. You can't even give your own daughters a decent education anymore, forcing them to attend that dump" -

- "I'm doing my best" -

- "You're doing your best!?" Anna laughed hysterically. "What about my best? I gave up my career for you. I had a baby I never wanted" -

- "That's enough!" Bethany screamed, her green eyes bulging as she advanced on her parents. "That's enough!"

* * *

><p>The doorbell rang, waking Bethany out of her stupor. Her father had been gone for hours now, probably checking himself into a motel somewhere, like the third-rate thriller writer he was. Her mother had locked herself in their bedroom, probably prettily crying herself to sleep. Bethany felt like knocking their heads together. They were her parents, they weren't meant to screw up, that was her job.<p>

Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing her mascara even further across her face, she blearily opened the door, expecting the take-out she'd thrown all financial caution to the wind and ordered, only to see Hal Mason. She did a double-take, Hal doing the same.

"What the hell happened to your face?" he asked bluntly, stunning her further.

"Why the hell are you on my doorstep?" she snapped, folding her arms across her chest, feeling like she was in a parallel universe.

"Your bracelet is why," Hal said even more bluntly, holding it out to her, "my dad found it back in the bookstore. Rita recognized it as yours, said it was your grandmother's or something, so my mom made me bring it round, thought it was important you got it back as soon as possible."

Bethany just stared at him again. "How do you know where I live?" she asked suspiciously.

"Your mom goes to the same pottery class as mine," Hal said, "I'm not stalking you."

"Wish you would."

Hal raised his eyebrows.

"It was a joke," she said, snatching the bracelet out of his hand, "tell your mom thanks for being so thoughtful. And your dad and Rita as well," she added hastily, wishing Hal would just go now. But he loitered on the doorstep, tracing a pattern on the gravel path with his trainered foot.

"You're in my English class, aren't you?" he said thoughtfully.

"Oh, you noticed?" Bethany retorted, ready to slam the door on his face.

"Yeah, I noticed," Hal said, "I notice you don't talk to anyone."

"Nobody talks to me."

"Maybe it's because you're such an ice queen."

"Ice is dangerous."

"What, scared you'll break my neck?"

"More your heart actually."

"Maybe you'll just melt it."

Bethany scoffed, shaking her head in disbelief at his words.

"Or maybe you should melt your own," Hal pointed out with annoying accuracy.

"I'm not an ice queen," Bethany protested, knowing full well she was.

"Maybe even smile a little. It wouldn't hurt," Hal continued, eyes crinkling up in the corners now.

Bethany just shook her head, simultaneously wishing Hal would stay and leave. The longer she looked at him, the more it hurt her heart. The fact he was here, actually talking to her, was blowing her mind in ways she didn't even want to imagine.

"What's wrong?" Hal then asked gently. "Something happen?"

"My dad's having an affair," Bethany said bluntly, beyond caring now, "and my mom wants a divorce, so everything is a bit..."

"Crap?"

"Shit is a better word."

"Slightly more graphic though."

"I'm a graphic kind of girl."

Hal just nodded, his brow furrowing, making him look like Tom for a moment. "In that case, I should probably head back, then," he then said awkwardly.

"It's okay," Bethany said, her heart sinking with both grief and relief. "Thanks for bringing my bracelet round. I hadn't even realised it was gone..." Her voice trailed off and she concentrated on fixing the clasp of it around her wrist instead.

"Take care," Hal said quietly, "I'll see you around." And then he was gone, Bethany closing the door on the darkness, her heart filling with light. He would see her around.

_Like a chest of hidden gold_  
><em>Shimmers in the depths below<em>  
><em>We are, we are, the treasures that they hide<em>  
><em>Like the sun that saves the night<em>  
><em>Bursting through a darkened sky<em>  
><em>We are, we are, soldiers of the light<em>  
><em>And we will glow...<em>


	5. To The Moon And Back

**To The Moon And Back**

_Tough girl_  
><em>In the fast lane<em>  
><em>No time for love<em>  
><em>No time for hate<em>  
><em>No drama, no time<em>  
><em>For games<em>  
><em>Tough girl<em>  
><em>Whose soul aches...<em>

Bethany sat on the porch steps, staring up at the moon, thinking as ever of Hal. His mother had told him some fairytale about the moon, Hal telling it to Bethany with an awkward air, something about his shyness in sharing the story touching her heart. She desperately wished she could remember what it was, but it was far from her thoughts, the memory eluding her. Sighing heavily, she buried her face in her hands, taking short shallow breaths as she tried to steady herself. Ever since Terry had brought her group back to the farmhouse where the 7th Mass was based, she'd been fighting the mad desire to cut and run, to just head for the hills.

She didn't understand why she felt this way, she just did. If it wasn't Jessup and Craig's smug, smirking faces setting her on edge, the pair acting like they were heroes for bringing Terry back, more or less saving everyone's skins, it was the claustrophobic confines of the kitchen, the smell of meat cooking making her want to vomit, the stench reminding her of burnt Skitter. She should be happy they'd found the resistance movement, not rebelling against its authority.

But they'd barely been within the walls of the farmhouse for five minutes when Terry had taken over, forcing her father to relinquish the reins of power to him. And the worst thing was how readily her father had done so, the relief on his face more telling than words. Terry's attitude was they were civilians, not soldiers, and it was time they knew their place. But it had made Bethany suddenly realise she wasn't ready to stop fighting, even though she no longer had her rifle.

"Is everything alright, ma'am?" a voice asked almost brusquely from behind her.

Bethany glanced over her shoulder, only for her heart to sink. It was Terry, the person she wanted to avoid most.

"Hope I'm not interrupting your star-gazing," Terry said, coming over to her.

Bethany turned her back on him, her black braid swinging down her back.

"Which one are you again?" he said, sitting down beside her. "Abby?"

"Bethany," she said reluctantly.

"Ah, the one with the attitude," he said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Heard you telling that slime ball where to go back there. You know, you've got guts for such a young girl" -

- "Look, you might be their boss, but you're not mine," Bethany spat, cutting across him. "I'm not some schoolgirl civilian you can talk down to and patronize. My dad's been searching for the 2nd Mass for a long time now, but just because he's sold his soul to the 7th, doesn't mean I'll do the same."

Terry looked at her almost but not quite admiringly, not saying anything, just studying her face with an intensity that made her feel slightly uncomfortable.

"My dad's probably told you about what I did," Bethany said bitterly, "how I screwed up, how I deserted my post."

Terry looked away, still not saying anything.

"But I've learnt my lesson," Bethany said, almost pleading now, "I've did my time, I'll always be doing time. I can barely live with myself over what I did. I've got my blood on my hands and I'll never be able to wash it off. But I want to make it right; I want to make up for what I did. I want to fight, sir, that's all I want to do."

Silence.

"Welcome to the 7th Mass, then," Terry finally said, holding his hand out to her.

* * *

><p>Hal shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, counting stars to distract himself from the sight of his father and Vivien locked together in a passionate embrace. Even up on the roof, he wasn't safe from their displays of public affection. All Vivien had done was bring Tom a flask of hot soup to keep him warm while he was on night sentry duty, and Tom had reacted as though she'd just brought him the elixir of life itself, pulling her to him like he was some Hollywood hero. If it hadn't been his own father humiliating himself, Hal would have laughed long and hard.<p>

"Jesus Christ," Maggie said under her breath, "somebody get them a room."

"Tell me about it," Hal said, turning his back on them. "I have to live with that."

"So do I," Maggie retorted, "you forget I'm sharing a tent with her - Tom's in it more than I am."

"But your tent is tiny," Hal said in disbelief, glancing at his father's too tall frame.

"I know," Maggie said before hollering over at Tom, "Hey, Hot Stuff! How about you share some of that soup!?"

Hal laughed, Maggie's dryness dragging him out the doldrums as usual.

"It's Pope's Special," Anthony said uneasily. "God knows what's in it."

"But Pope didn't make it, did he?" Maggie said as Tom let go of Vivien, looking slightly dazed. "He just left you all the recipe to remind the 2nd Mass of what they've lost."

"Still Pope's recipe," Anthony said, undeterred.

"What's up?" Tom asked as he came over, running his hand awkwardly across his beard.

"Nothing," Maggie said sweetly, confusing him.

"Thought you were on watch, Professor Kick-Ass," Anthony said reprovingly with a pointed glance at Vivien nearby.

"I'm on my break actually," Tom said, brow furrowing, "Dai's covering me."

Anthony just nodded, Tom nodding in return, looking more confused than ever, before wandering back to Vivien like a lost soul.

"I can't believe he just answered to Hot Stuff," Hal said under his breath, making Maggie grin despite herself.

"At least you don't have to listen to him reading out loud," Maggie said ruefully.

"What, is that what he does in the tent?" Hal said. "He reads her stories?"

"Yup," Maggie said, staring out at the horizon.

Hal just shook his head to himself, remembering against his will telling Bethany of the fairytale his mother had woven around the moon. He was more like his father than he realised.

* * *

><p>Bethany exchanged an uneasy smile with Tessa as she handed Bethany the salt. Terry had introduced Bethany to Tessa, placing her into Tessa's care. As Bethany helped Tessa and her father in the kitchen, she swiftly learned that earning citizenship with the 7th Mass didn't stop at carrying a firearm. Everybody had to contribute, whether it was with the chores or keeping watch, regardless of gender and age. But oddly enough, chopping up vegetables didn't bother Bethany like it would have done. Tessa's father washed plates when Will would have refused, setting an example her father would never follow.<p>

Outside, Terry had talked to Bethany for a while, stating the situation they were in. Where they were, there was no Skitters, no Mechs, only peace and quiet. But it had been a peace hard-earned for the 7th Mass. Before going to ground at the farm, they'd engaged in a series of skirmishes with the enemy, losing a lot of people along the way. Where there had once been many, there was now only a few.

The resistance movement was still alive, but they were making little headway, their revolt only making the situation worse. Under Porter's orders, the 2nd Mass had been split up into units, going to ground in various areas, but he'd lost contact with Porter way back, so he didn't know if the other units were still operating or not. All he could do was keep going by keeping his head down, consequently keeping his people safe.

But his attitude had sat ill with Bethany, who thought they had to keep up the fight regardless. Yet Terry had kept his cool, merely pointing out there was no point in bringing the fight to the enemy, not when the first rule of combat was survival and she should bear that in mind for her family, that a battlefield was no place to bring a baby into the world. The reference to her mother's pregnancy had swayed Bethany, leading her to all but beg Terry to help her mother, the man holding his hands up in mock surrender, almost teasing her out of her terror, saying gently that her mother was being cared for as he spoke.

"Dime for your thoughts?" Tessa asked, breaking into Bethany's reverie.

"I'm just worried about my mom," Bethany said, shaking her head.

"You shouldn't be," Tessa said gently, "she's safe here, you all are."

Bethany just smiled bitterly, setting the salt down on the draining board. Tessa was wrong. Nobody was safe, not anymore.


End file.
